


Always Love

by lovelycollision



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:49:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2782082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelycollision/pseuds/lovelycollision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are the things that sew them together, heartstring by heartstring. Time and space knows no bounds, and their souls always find a way to touch. </p><p>Or, the different lifetimes of Daryl Dixon and Beth Greene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a lovely melody

_and somehow,_

_in-between their tired yawns and little lullabies,_

_he falls so helplessly in love_

_._

.

.

Sitting cross-legged on the black leather couch, a guitar settled on his legs, and a pencil in-between his index finger and thumb, Daryl takes a deep breath before exhaling slowly. He leans forward towards the coffee table, his fingers playing with the pencil as his tired eyes scan over his open, worn out notebook. The page is filled with scribbled out words, pencil smudges, eraser shavings, and half-drawn super heroes. Flipping through the pages, his eyes scrunched up with each turn, until he threw the pencil onto the ground and let out a frustrated groan.

Daryl scratched his head and strummed his fingers reflexively over the strings of his guitar. The sound soothes him a bit, yet also reminds him that he will be heading back into the recording studio in a day, and that he has not come up with any new material to present to the rest of his band. The thought crosses his mind and he groans again.

Gently, Daryl placed his guitar down next to him on the couch and stretched his body out. He rolled his broad shoulders, and even managed to successfully crack his neck. Sighing in mild content, a loud yawn erupts from his mouth. He shook his head, and runs a tired hand over his face, massaging his groggy eyes.

“Daryl?”

At the call of his name, Daryl sat back up. His eyes quickly looked to the bedroom doorway, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Beth," he hoarsely breathes out. His voice is low and gravelly from hours of disuse and little sleep. Clearing his throat, he stares at her. She is leaning against the doorway, clad in nothing but his long-sleeved, button down plaid shirt that reaches her mid thighs. The sleeves are far too long, and as she brings up her hand to her face, she twitches when a button smacks her in the eye.

“That’s not my hand,” she tiredly whispers, pushing down the sleeve and rubbing her tired, baby blue eyes, all the while struggling to fight back a yawn. Daryl lets out a low chuckle when she finally gives in and releases a long, tired yawn.

Shaking her head profusely at the aftershock of her yawn, Beth blinked rapidly to rid of the tears. Once her blue eyes are clear, she looks to Daryl, and then at the clock. She does this once more, and another quiet beat passes before she gasps loudly, her eyes going wide, completely awake now.

“It’s almost four in the morning!” She exclaims, pointing a surprised finger at the clock. He smirks and grunts in agreement. He clears his throat once more and finds his voice, “Yeah… I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Beth stares at him thoughtfully and Daryl sees a flash of something cross her eyes before she looks away. She rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet and unknowingly fiddles with the sleeves of his shirt. Her eyes are flittering here and there, never meeting his, and Daryl raises an amused eyebrow, wondering what has gotten her so nervous all of a sudden. She looks down for a second, and when she looks back up to him, Daryl can see a blush creeping along her pale cheeks.

“I woke up because it got too cold," she says. They continue to stare at each other, and he can see she has more to say, though she is hesitant and unsure. She suddenly breaks eye contact once more, and Daryl's fingers twitch, itching to walk over to her and tug at her chin so he can look to her eyes and force her to finish what she wants to say. Instead, he continues to stare at her silently, patiently waiting.

"What?" Daryl asks, his voice rough. Brushing back a wavy blonde strand of hair behind her ear, Beth clears her throat, and the red in her cheeks intensify. Daryl's stare is intense, and for some reason, his heart is hammering against his chest.

"Um, you should really turn the heater on, now that winter is here," she finishes quietly, her soft gaze meeting his. Daryl's hammering heart slows as he looks away from her stare and to her fidgety hands. Once more, he wants to grab her and force the truth out; instead, he nods his head in agreement.

"Mm, I'll make sure ta keep that in mind," he promises. Taking his guitar and placing it against the table, he pats the empty spot next to him. Beth stops her fidgeting, her blue eyes light up, and Daryl is graced with a bright smile from her pink lips.

Her bare feet thud against the wooden floor as she makes her way over to him. Listening, he can’t help but take note that the sound of her footsteps are light and have a soft bounce to them. The way she walked comforted him somehow. Leaning back against the couch, he watches her.

Taking her seat next to him, moving around to get comfortable, Beth looks to his face, then down the length of his body. Tilting her head, she suddenly copies his sitting position; her legs stretch out, and her arms fold securely across her chest. He watches what she’s doing and shakes his head. Her teasing eyes look up at him, and a goofy smile makes its way across her face. He rolls his eyes, and a giggle erupts from her mouth. Humming quietly, her hand smooths its way up and down his muscled arm, and Daryl shivers.

"Tough night?" Beth asks curiously. He glances down at her and looks at her questioning face. He notices a string of wavy hair out of place. Unconsciously, he reaches out and tucks the long, silky strand of blonde hair behind her ears.

“Yeah, I can’t think of what ta write, and I'm meetin' up with the boys tomorrow,” he explains, still looking at her. He grabs another piece of her wavy locks and follows it down to the tip, his fingers gingerly brushing across her stomach. Beth watches him fondly, loving his intimacy.

Daryl revels in the silkiness of her hair, and repeats the motion again, only this time, his fingers stop against her pink-tinted cheeks. He looks over to her blue eyes, wide and curious, waiting for his next movement. Beth can feel her anticipation manifest into yet another blush, and she watches Daryl quirk an eyebrow. Her blush grows when she feels the soft caress of his fingers brush against the side of her cheek, and Daryl laughs quietly at her embarrassment.

Beth scrunches her nose and pouts, moving her head down in response trying to hide her face away from his. He loves when he embarrasses her; he finds her adorable when she huffs out an annoyed breath. Moving his fingers away, he makes sure he barely traces her lips with the tips of his fingers before he bends down and picks up the lost pencil.

Beth looks at him from behind her curtain of yellow hair and then peeks out in wonder when he gets off the couch and picks up his guitar and settles onto the floor. Moving her hair away from her face, she can feel the heat in her cheeks subside, and she is grateful that her embarrassment isn’t so blatantly obvious anymore.

She watches him strum a few strings, his eyes focused on his fingers. A few seconds pass, and he’s playing an unknown tune, his fingers dancing. Beth watches him, admiration and awe flitting across her face at the sight of his knowing fingers playing.

Beth loved watching him play. The way he so passionately gave himself to his music, the way you could hear and feel the emotions of his soul when his hands skillfully played his guitar. He looked fearless and strong; Beth only hoped he would continue to let her watch him play with such devotion.

“Whatcha thinkin' 'bout in that little head of yours, darlin'?”

Her roaming thoughts come to a halt as his husky voice penetrates her mind. She drifts away from her daydream to find him staring at her, the sound of the melody gone. She smiles softly and ardently looks at him.

“You.”

And so, the truth manages to creep its way out of Beth's curious soul, penetrating the walls of Daryl's wild and untamed one. His eyes widen at her open response. He feels frozen, and he notices nothing else except Beth's alluring face leaning closer to his.

"It's you, always," Beth breathes out. He can feel the warmth of her breath on his face; her fingers reach for him, landing on the side of his cheek, the gruff of his beard rough against her soft hand. "I didn't wake up because it was cold," Beth begins softly, rubbing her thumb against his cheek. Daryl watches with trepidation, barely registering the hammering of his heart.

"I woke up because I couldn't feel you there. I couldn't feel you, even in my sleep," her voice is like velvet and Daryl can see the ardor in her eyes, can feel it in her touch.

"It was like my soul knew you weren't there."

Daryl swears his heart stops for two beats before it thunderously bursts back to life. He doesn't know why it's that simple confession that has him realizing how he immensely and so deeply loves and cares for the small slip of a girl in front of him. She has no clue as to how much her confession has rocked his world, and Daryl sadly realizes that she probably never will.

He can feel himself choke back a sob, and all he really wants to do is fall to his knees before her and cling to her like a lifeline. She is his anchor, and he does not know how to tell her this.

Daryl is a rough man of very few words, and he does not know how to even begin to tell her that her gentle heart is everything he lacks; that her kind soul is everything he had always wished for. He wants to tell her that she inspires his music, and ignites his will to be a better man, despite the love she has for his flaws.

Beth can see that her confession has made him feel small, can see the turmoil in his navy blue eyes. She can see the want to say everything he thought she deserved to hear, his wounded heart still so afraid; but Beth doesn't need to hear any of it. Her heart swells and soars, and she leans down towards him, resting her forehead against his. She gazes into his eyes, her fingers gripping the sides of his face.

"Oh Daryl, I've always known; I'll always know."

Daryl sucks in a ragged breath, almost whimpering. He watches her eyes flutter to a close, can feel her tremble at the weight of their combined emotions. He can feel her lips ghost over his, and though it is fleeting, he could still taste the testament of her love, can taste her promises.

Beth releases a soft sigh, pulling back a little to see his handsome, rugged face more clearly. She runs her fingers through his dark brown hair, and smiles at the sight of his relaxed face. She repeats the motion, and giggles when she sees a tiny hint of pink grace his tanned features. She watches his eyes flicker away from her towards anywhere else. Suddenly, her giggle turns into a full blown laugh and Beth can see his cheeks inflame even more. It is rare for him to be embarrassed. She can't help but find his embarrassment even cuter than puppies, kittens, and baby elephants combined.

Her laughter dies down to a low chuckle when she starts to hear an unknown tune fill the room once more. A few minutes go by, and Beth decides to lay down, tucking her arms underneath her head, her affectionate gaze still on him.

“Play for me, my lullaby," she requests. Daryl pauses to look at her. He sees her lovely face, wistful and weary. Wisps of blonde hair flow down her shoulders and down her back like a calm river. His shirt hugs her small body, and accentuates her soft curves, the dip of her hip making Daryl's skin crawl. His eyes travel down to where his shirt stops, the fabric brushing and barely covering the curve of her butt. Her legs are pale, fragile and feminine; but he knows their own strength, can still feel their power wrapped around his waist.

And in that moment, he knows he'll do anything she asks.

“Always,” he replies, and it's a promise. Daryl’s smile is so endearing, so soft, that Beth wants to fight against sleep so that she could see him play in all his passion- all for her. But his eyes are telling her to relax, to cross over to her sweet dreams that are filled with his raspy voice, and the feel of his rough, skilled hands on her face.

Though Daryl ironically finds it hard to come up with the right words to say, he more than makes up for it through the intensity of his eyes. Beth constantly finds herself lost in the depths of Daryl's dark blue orbs, and this moment is no different. She can see the deep blue of his eyes telling her: I'll never leave you.

Clearing his throat, Daryl stares at Beth’s face, her baby blues slowly drifting. He fixes his fingers on the right chords, takes a breather, and pauses to remember how important this song is to him. It was written for her, and he would only sing it to her, for her.

Daryl’s voice echoes the empty room, and fills Beth’s heart and soul with warmth. He looks at her as he plays, and pours his heart. Beth's eyelids droop down, the power of sleep overpowering her. She falls asleep to his voice still fresh in her mind, and she smiles softly at this. As she drifts away to her dreams, Daryl's voice dies down and he stops playing.

Placing his guitar back against its rack, he tucks stray papers neatly back into his notebook. He can feel something within him bubbling, and he realizes that it's yet another spark of inspiration, courtesy of the young woman he so reverently loves.

Walking up to Beth's sleeping form, he wraps an arm around her legs, while the other wraps around her shoulders. Gently, he lifts her into his strong arms, her weight not bothering him in the least. He has carried her numerous times, and every time, he revels in the moment because it makes him feel like he is the only one who can protect her.

Her long hair flows down his arms, and he shifts to have a steadier hold. She moves a little at the sudden movement and Daryl stills, hoping that he doesn’t wake her. Instead, Beth moves in close, leaning her face against his. Looking down at the woman in his arms, he smiles and brings her face up to his and places a soft kiss against her forehead.

Walking back to their room, Daryl settles her onto their bed, takes his place next to her, and pulls the blanket over them. He smooths her hair out, and she instinctively settles herself into him. Welcoming her into his arms, he brings her closer, and breathes all of her in. She smells like fresh January rains, and crisp October apples. Feeling his eyes start to droop, Daryl can already see the start of his blissful dream come to his mind.

Even asleep and dreaming, her smile is as vivid and bright as the sun, and her playful laughter is the sweetest and most loveliest melody he has ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just different AU one-shots of Beth and Daryl, because they deserve all the happiness in the world.
> 
> xo,
> 
> lovelycollision


	2. pretty princess in love

_life is brief, so fall in love_

_before the crimson fades from your lips_

_before your passion cools_

_for tomorrow is not assured_

_._

_._

_._

When Merle had first heard the knocking on his door, he was just on his way to bed. He had every intention of ignoring it, but the closer he got to his room, the more persistent and demanding the knocking became. Clearly, the person was not going to leave, intent on getting attention.

Sighing in annoyance, Merle made his way back to the entryway and swung the front door open with force, ready to tell the person off.

"What in the hell-"

The words quickly fell from his mouth at the sight of the person behind the door. His eyes widened, and he could swear his jaw was hitting the floor. Merle could swear that two minutes passed before he closed his mouth. Clearing his throat, Merle straightened up, suddenly feeling very awake and very nervous.

On the other side of the door, in all her regal glory, was Beth Greene, _princess_ of Senoia. Immediately, a flurry of questions run through his head. What in world was the princess doing out in the deep forest of Senoia, far from her palace? What was she doing in front of a thief's house? Doesn't she have any idea who he is? He could take her...

All thoughts of kidnapping fade when he sees the look in her eyes. _Her eyes_.

Despite the darkness and the cover of her hood, her bright blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight, unwavering as they pierced into his own baby blues. Though her eyes are calm, they are sharp, defiant, determined. He does not know what she can do, but he suddenly doesn't want to know. Besides, he is more curious as to why she is even here.

His eyes sweep over the girl in front of him. With the small amount of moonlight lighting the forest, he can see the shine of the pin on her black hooded cloak- the Greene family emblem. She is a tiny thing, barely reaching his shoulders; but with her strong gaze and confident stance, she appears taller.

And her _eyes._ They are intimidating.

"Are you Merle Dixon?"

Her voice is what he imagined it would be: soft and light; but he can hear a steady strength behind it. He is still too stunned, for what is the princess of Senoia, the country's sun, doing on his front door step? And how the hell does she even _know_ his name?

"I'm going to take that as a yes," she says knowingly. Merle doesn't like that tone, but he finds himself wordlessly nodding. A dainty hand appears from behind her cloak, watching as she takes off her black hood. Seeing her clearly now, he understands why she is the sun. She just seems to _glow,_ as if she has a sun's ray in her body. Her blonde hair shines, wisps of it brushing against rouge cheeks, pink lips quirking into a soft smile. And _those blue eyes_.

As he stares, he tries and remembers if he had seen her at one of the few festivals the royal family decided to grace them with their presence. He remembers the food, the decorations, the music, the women.

He remembers his gaze lingering far too long onto her older sister, Maggie Greene, the eldest of the Greene children; renowned for her fair beauty, she was as dazzling and alluring as the moonlight. Then there was Shawn Greene, the handsome prince and heir of Senoia, who stood tall and brave, and even Merle had to glance at his charming smile.

The longer he thinks about it, Merle starts to realize that he has never actually seen the young princess full on. He only remembers seeing flashes of her blonde locks, catching glimpses of her graceful lithe body. He remembers hearing the whispers circulating of her beauty, bright and ethereal like the sun. He realizes that the rumors do her no justice. She is as breathtaking as her sister.

As he continues to stare into the young princess' blue eyes, he now understands why the Greene children were so deeply _envied;_ they were captivating- _especially this one, with her sapphire eyes_ , he thinks.

Merle knows he's still staring, but he cannot help it. If it bothers the young girl, she doesn't show it. Rather, she stares back as well, patient.  He doesn't know what to say, where to begin, or if his voice is even working. Finally, he just goes with whatever comes to his mind, "What can I do for you, princess?"

She quirks her head to the side, not fazed with his sudden question and speaks, "Your brother, Daryl, is he here?" She is still calm, but her darting blue eyes look behind him, looking. And _wait._

_"Daryl?!"_ Merle yells out, shocked. Thousands of questions run through his head. He is bewildered and confused. What does his younger brother have to do with the princess of Senoia. A delicate brow raises in amusement as she nods her head before chuckling softly. Her laugh is soft and tinkly, reminiscent of the lullabies his mother used to play for him on her old wooden flute when he was younger.

"I know you have many questions you want to ask," she trails off, a far off look appearing in her eyes.

"I'm sorry that I can't answer any of your questions, it isn't my place to say. It's Daryl's job, and I'm sure, in time, he'll tell you everything," she assures, the distant look in her eyes fading. Merle doesn't know what the hell to do with that, so he tries to press further.

"You asking for my brother? Daryl, as in Daryl _Dixon?"_ She nods her head in affirmation.

"You have any idea who we Dixons are? Last I checked, we're not exactly in the best terms with the royal family," he reminds her. The Dixon name was not positively known in their area, especially among the royal family. What with all their stealing and destructive mannerisms, they are infamous for their wild nature; and yet, they have never been apprehended, even with a generous bounty placed on his head. As fierce as the Dixons are, they are also cunning and calculating; the blood of thieves coursing through their veins.

' _Except for now_ ,' Merle thinks, seeing as how someone- a royal nonetheless- has somehow found his home. Beth's smile is mysterious, as if she knows all of Merle's secrets, and it's those _damn eyes_ , he concludes. He does not like them. As beautiful as they are, they are too perceptive, too sharp.

"Oh I know you Dixons," she hums and tilts her head, "well maybe not _you_ in particular, but I know of your brother, fairly well I might add," she teases. Merle is practically burning with curiosity- more so than ever now. "Anyway, please, do you have any idea where he is?" Her blue eyes are hopeful now, and Merle stares again, wanting to ask so many things.

"No clue. He hasn't been around here for two days," he says. He doesn't know why he answers truthfully, he thinks maybe it's lack of sleep, but in the very back of his mind, he hears _it's her eyes, her eyes, her eyes._

"Oh, I see," she whispers. Not only does her face falter, but her whole body seems to reel at his statement. Her eyes are distant again, sad and lonely, and Merle can't help it- there are too many questions, but none burn more than,

" _Why?_ "

Her body and eyes perk up a little. She smiles unknowingly, answering fondly, "I think I frightened him a little bit, said things I meant, but he was too afraid to hear."

He doesn't understand, and before he can press further, a bright, beautiful smile erupts from her lovely features, and her blue eyes sparkle.

"I told him I loved him."

Merle thinks he definitely is as old as his body feels sometimes, because _no way_ did Beth Greene, _princess of Senoia_ just profess her love for his younger brother in front of him. He is stunned into silence, and he faintly hears her laugh.

"You're probably confused and you probably think I'm crazy, but...," she shifts, looking down again. He has to strain to hear what she has to say because her voice has suddenly gone softer.

"I love singing, and honey, playing darts, and the Grimes' infamous baked bread; and I know I'm not like Maggie, who's strong and beautiful, or like Shawn, brave and smart; and I really don't have anything special that makes me stand out as a princess." She snickers then, and even to him, the sound sounds foreign. She pushes wisps of hair behind her ears and continues.

"But, I love your brother. I love the man who cares so much for this world, even though it's been so unkind to him. I love the man who cares for people in his own special way, even though they are still cruel to him, blinded by false rumors. And even though he's sad, and afraid, and a little lost... _nobody_ loves him the way that I do."

Her confession is sincere, heart wrenching, and stuns Merle. He wishes his goddamn brother were here instead of him. Merle doesn't want to hear this, these words are too private, too real, too good to be true...

Suddenly, he realizes, maybe that is why his brother has fled.

He probably looks uncomfortable because Beth just smiles, accustomed to the wary Dixon nature. She does not look the least bit ashamed at her confession; hell, she looks proud. She pulls her hood back on, and those blue eyes look at him again, "Please, if you see him, will you let him know that I'm looking for him?"

Merle faintly nods at this. He doesn't know what to do, and he curses inwardly. It is so uncharacteristic of him to be speechless, but this little ray of sun has thrown him off; from the moment he opened the door and saw her, to the moment of her confession, all of it is so surreal. He is still so surprised, this encounter is too weird, too short, and he still has so many questions, but there is no time.

She is turning away from him, and it is then when he sees the figure behind her, and Merle's eyes widen. He wonders how long the figure has been there, and mildly chides himself for being so insensitive of his surroundings. He can hear the gasp escape from her lips.

_"Daryl..."_


	3. just breathe

_my world is falling apart,  
_

_time for me is short,  
_

_but any I have left is yours to take_

_._

_._

_._

Beth is the first to break open out of the military headquarters building. Immediately, she stops dead on her tracks at the sight before her blue eyes. Fire and smoke, endless screaming and the smell of burning flesh fill the air. It is scorching hot, and Beth fidgets under her layer of armor, the rifle on her back so heavy to bear now. She is overwhelmed with dread, grief, and horror. Their planet is losing this war, and they are paying for it with the lives of the innocents caught in-between. The scenery before her is worse than she had imagined, and she wonders if she is prepared for any of this.

She hears many footsteps from behind, and suddenly her family comes to a halt behind her, stunned as she is at the sight. A pained gasp is heard, and she doesn't have to look behind her to know that the same look of terror is mirrored on her sister's face.

A strong gust of wind suddenly picks up, and a loud whizzing comes from their left side. They all look and see a large airship in the sky, dark and glowing. Soon, a door opens and several creatures exit and jump, all landing gracefully on the ground despite the height. Even from the distance, they can see their disfigured faces and empty eyes; and even more, they can smell the rancidness of their emaciated bodies. They are like the dead, their low groans and moans mixing with the shrieks of the living.

" _Walkers_ ," Beth hisses viciously, several emotions suddenly whirling in her head.

"How did this happen?" Maggie whispers, her voice shaking. Before any of them can respond, a buzzing noise pierces the air, and then a loud crash. A plume of smoke erupts from the distance as the top half of a building starts to tumble down. They feel the impact beneath their feet; she can see Carol drop to her knees from the corner of her eyes.

"Jesus Christ, that was the condo building! We all live there! _Any of us_ could have been in there!" Glenn exclaims, his voice distraught, grabbing at the ends of his hair.

Beth looks away and turns around, wanting to find _his_ familiar face to calm her frazzled nerves. To her dismay, he cannot be found. Her body tenses, and she can feel a fear so great start to overcome her. When she feels Maggie's cool touch on her fingers, she looks to her with wild eyes.

"Don't worry, he'll be coming up soon. He's just making sure nobody's stuck in there," Maggie soothes, brushing back strands of loose blonde hair behind Beth's ear. Beth leans in to her big sister's loving touch, thanking her.

After a moment of shock, she hears their ever noble commander speak, "We'll find the answers later, but for now, we've got to get any survivors on board the ships," Rick ordered, gathering composure. They all look to him, and Rick tries to quickly think of a plan.

"We split up, that's the most efficient way. There are two ships in the east hangars. Rosita, Tara, Eugene, Noah you take one ship. Carl, Carol, Tyreese, Sasha, you take the other. Get them both packed and ready. I want them both at full capacity by one hour. That goes to say, we _all_ meet back here in an hour, and then we're leaving," Rick says, and the group nods in response.

"Abraham, Michonne, Glenn, Maggie, Beth, spread out. Find as many as you can. Get them on those goddamn ships," Rick finishes. Beth's hand twitches, and before she can ask, Glenn beats her to it, "What about you and Daryl?"

"What about me?" A hoarse voice comes from behind Rick, and Beth lets out a long sigh of relief. She can vaguely hear her sister chide, "I told you he was alive." Beth rolls her eyes as Daryl walks over to her. She scans him for any damage, but Daryl waves off her worried stare. "I'm fine," he admonishes gently, grabbing a hold of her hand and squeezing softly.

"We're splitting up in groups. Two groups in the hangar, and one to look for survivors. You and I, however, are heading to the capitol building. We all have an hour before we meet back here," Rick spills out, briefing Daryl.

"You gonna see if the prime minister is alive?" Tyreese asks. Rick nods and chuckles, "Oh Morgan's alive, bastard's good at getting through shitty times. He's probably trying to get as many people out." Tyreese nods, taking the safety off his pistol. Rick steps away a bit and they all look to him. His hard eyes soften a bit before he speaks.

"Be careful, don't be stupid. Stand strong, stand together." Rick's voice is stern, his gaze resolute as he looks to each member of his family, willing them to survive, to _live_.

There were reassuring hugs for all, and tender touches shared between a few others as they all moved towards their respective small groups.

After Beth tells Maggie that she would be sticking to her side like glue, she turns to Daryl. She is shaky when she goes up to him, not wanting to think of the worst. Before Beth can open her mouth, Daryl brings a hand to her lips, silencing her. "I'm going with you."

"But-"

" _I'm with you_."

.

Daryl never strays too far from Beth as they fight. They eye the Walkers, but they always keep track of each other, always by the other's side if danger gets too near them. When they move, it is fluid and smooth. They are meant to fight together, the bond running deep into their bones, reflexes made to protect the other.

Though Daryl is stronger, Beth is faster. Her feet are quicker, her aim always true, always shooting to kill. And so it comes as a surprise to the Walkers when a small pretty thing comes from behind a man full of vicious, brute strength, aims her pistol right in-between their eyes, grins with victory, and shoots.

If Beth is the deadly point of a sword, then Daryl is her blood iron shield.

.

The ship is hovering in the air as they reach it, barely making it on time. Daryl sees Maggie and Rick's faces yelling at them to _run faster, goddammit_.

They breathe a bit easier when they approach the landing, but then a rumble and a quake erupts.

It all happens too quickly, and for once, Daryl is faster.

The moment the ground begins to collapse beneath Beth's feet, Daryl is landing with a roll and a thud onto the open door space. With a fearsome roar, he slides his body to the edge and stretches his arm out as far as it can go. When the ground finally does give way, Beth takes a leap of faith, legs moving, arms stretching. reaching for him.

Fingertips brush, and for Daryl, it's quick and slow all at the same time.

Memories are quick to flash before him, and all he wants to do is to hold on to each one of them, just wants to remember even the smallest of things. But they all fade in a split second when he catches her blue eyes so filled with emotions, speaking in volumes. There is a certain _something_ that stands out in her eyes, and he knows it all too well, for he feels it every second of every goddamn day in his life.

He cannot hold his aching cry of agony and panic when he realizes she is _slipping_.

But so is Maggie.

And so, it is Maggie's determination, Maggie's bravery, Maggie's unconditional _love_ that ultimately saves Beth's life, and in turn, Daryl's.

She is hanging off the edge, her hips painfully digging into the ledge. Daryl looks behind them and sees Rick and Glenn laying atop Maggie's legs, tethering her bottom half to the ship. When he looks over Maggie's hanging body, he sees her holding onto one of Beth's arms . Her muscles are clenched, and she is shaking from holding Beth's weight, but even Daryl knows she will never let go. Quickly, he takes a hold of Beth's other arm, and Maggie yells.

"Oh you _so_ owe me, Bethany Anne Greene!"

.

They are sitting closely together on one of the ship's lofts, both looking out a small window, into the void of space. They are too deep into space now that they cannot see the remnants of their home planet. Though they were both literally homeless, they had each other, and their family, and that was all that ever mattered.

Beth isn't looking at him, but she can feel the weight of his stare on her face. She can feel his rough fingers travel up the side of her arm, and she shivers. He can't stop touching her like this, maybe trying to make sure she is real. The ghost of his touch leaves goosebumps on her skin, and soon, his fingers are tracing her jaw, until he takes a hold of her chin gently and tilts it towards him.

Even among the devastation and sorrow, all she sees is him. Even with the sweat, grime and blood coated on his face, hair plastered against his forehead, Beth thinks he is so painfully lovely. His rugged features are relaxed, and his eyes are so blue, so filled with endearment.

Her eyes water because their faces are so close to each other. She can feel and smell the spearmint emitting off his breath from the gum he was chewing on an hour ago. The smell is sharp and stings her eyes, but it is refreshing and intoxicating all at once, such a stark contrast from the putrid smell of death that she cannot seem to shake, will probably stick with her for a while.

Despite his faults and broken pieces, Daryl Dixon is so lovely in a way that makes Beth's heart ache and weep. She thinks she is the luckiest girl alive in the galaxy.

With his loveliness, and the way he leans into her, and the way he says _I love you so fucking much, don't you dare forget that_ , makes her almost cry. She never wants them to end, always wants them to have eternity.

She chokes back her sobs, closes her eyes, breathes in deeply, and lets the mint prickle her skin. She lets it tingle all the way down her throat, until it burns her lungs, sets her heart on fire, and makes her soul explode.

.

He tries not to dwell on her near death experience; tries not to remember the moment of despair and loneliness; tries not to think that wherever she would go, he would always follow, no matter how far.

Sitting here, so close and so intimate, Daryl hopes that she's breathing in this memory into her brain, into her bones, into the very core of her soul.

He cups her face in his hands and cradles her there. She is so precious to him, and he tells her so.

She is the blood in his veins, the air that he breathes, and he tells her so.

"I love you so fucking much, don't you dare forget that," he tells her so, voice course, heart raw.

When he breathes her in deeply, he always wants to remember how she smells like: fresh rain and honey dew slices; and above all else, he wants to always remember the way she feels like: warm like the suns in their galaxy and velvety smooth.

He never, ever wants to feel her less. He wants her close to him, closer all the time. Beth is a lot more than what he deserves, he knows this despite what she says. And she is beautiful, too, especially on the inside. Her beauty shines, even through mussed blonde locks, and even brighter in the darkness. He just hopes that he'll one day be enough for someone who is so enchanting.

Beth Greene is everything and more. He is just selfish and greedy, and even if the stars in their galaxy fade and their planet is left to die, and they're ripped apart, he'd still want only her. He'd cherish her for forever if she'd let him have it.

Amidst the chaos that is behind them and in their future, he hears her whisper _I love you, so, so much. Whatever I have, whatever I am, it's yours to take, always._

.

So when he finally leans down and catches her lips, he is repeating in his head, over and over again: _I want you to breathe me in_.

She takes in all of him, and gives him more than her heart. _I want you to breathe into me_ , she thinks, and the thought is all that consumes her mind.

.

_I will always love you._

And it is more than enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU was heavily influenced by Mass Effect, particularly ME3. I hope you're enjoying these as much as I enjoy writing them. I'll try my best to write a few of your requests.
> 
> Thanks for all the love!
> 
> xo,  
> lovelycollision


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